


A Match Made in Mischief

by MagdaTheMagpie



Series: Marvel & Magic [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagdaTheMagpie/pseuds/MagdaTheMagpie
Summary: The last thing Loki expected when he fell into the abyss that had once been the Bifrost was to meet his biggest fan.





	A Match Made in Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> For the Marvelously Magical Bingo 2018!  
> Square O1: Loki/Sirius

 

Loki let go. Thor's hand was right there within reach, but he couldn't face his brother and his inevitable forgiveness, nor his father's ire or his mother's disappointment, his actions or his failure… No, he was better off gone. Forgotten.

Or so he thought in the second it took him to let go. He regretted it almost immediately, but by then he was sucked into a wormhole that could take him just about anywhere, or nowhere, as the case might be.

“Hey!”

Loki was sure he must have imagined the voice. He'd been drifting for so long, alone in the void, where no sound and no light could penetrate. He might be going mad. He might even be dead and not know it.

“Hallo!”

This time, Loki glanced around and was startled to see a small light, like the tiniest of stars, glide towards him.

“Bugger.”

Well, that was a new one.

“Not you! Sorry! It's just so bloody difficult moving through nothing.”

Loki nodded. It was indeed. He had given up himself after many fruitless efforts, and let himself drift aimlessly instead. If he was even moving. It was hard to tell.

The star was growing bigger however, and Loki could soon make out the shape of a man with his pale skin and long hair. The light was emanating from the end of a carved length of wood. A wand, if he wasn't mistaken. He hadn't realized there were still magical midgardians around or he would have recruited them for his plans of world domination. Their magic was a bit crude, but quite useful.

“Ah, there you are! Fancy meeting you here, mate. What bitch did you piss off to land yourself in this hell?”

“None, really. I guess you could say I only have myself to blame for my current predicament.”

“That’s quite unfortunate. Personally, I like having someone to blame for my problems.”

“Understandable.”

Loki would like nothing better than to blame all of it on his oaf of a brother, but he couldn't. Not when he saw Thor's distraught face and his hand reaching out for him every time he closed his eyes.

“I'm Sirius,” the stranger said and extended a hand.

Loki hesitated, but the man was slowly drifting away again thanks to the dregs of the momentum he'd used to accost him. He caught the proffered hand, not wanting to be alone again, and kept hold of it. It was warm.

“Loki.”

Sirius grinned from ear to ear.

“Like the God of Mischief? Fantastic! We should get along just fine.”

“Like?” Loki asked, amused.

Sirius’ brow furrowed, making Loki smirk. Then the puzzlement turned into realization and he gaped. Loki could have sworn he saw a glimpse of adoration in the other man's grey eyes. It felt… good. Invigorating. He had forgotten what it was like to be worshipped.

“Really?” Sirius said in a whisper.

Loki nodded once, like the magnanimous God that he was, while Sirius drank the sight of him as if he was a dream come true. Loki suddenly felt it was easier to breathe. He was what he was, and shouldn't feel so burdened by other people’s expectations, not even his family's. He shouldn't be ashamed of who he was, who he couldn't help being. He couldn't repress his own nature, the very fabric of himself. He'd been digging his own grave, he realized, destroying himself to please others. Loki let go of it all, just like he had let go of the broken Bifrost, what felt like a lifetime ago.

“The one and only. Tell me, Sirius, how you came to haunt this place?”

Loki wasn't just asking for the sake of entertainment or to satisfy his curiosity. He found himself truly interested in the magical Midgardian who remembered and revered him for who he was. Not to mention he thought it would be weird if they kept holding hands but didn't talk, and he didn't want to relinquish Sirius’ hand…

So talk they did. He was not disappointed by the tale either. Sirius was an adequate storyteller, taking him from his misguided youth, to his years in a nightmarish prison, to his escape for revenge…

“But then I found Harry, and all I wanted was to protect him, be there for him, but my deranged cousin took that away from me and cast me through the Veil. I thought I would die, I really did, but I've just been floating around this boring stretch of space for… I actually don't have a clue how long. Could be minutes, could be years…”

“And yet, you have not gone mad?”

Sirius scoffed.

“After Azkaban? Are you serious? In comparison, this is a holiday. Never cold, never hungry, and I don't have to fear my soul will get sucked out when I'm taking a kip. I'd take years of drifting in nothing over that hellhole in a heartbeat every single time.”

“It does sound rather medieval,” Loki acknowledged. “Yet, you did seem rather eager to meet me.”

“‘Course I was. I'm not a glutton for punishment either. Did enough of that already. Twelve years, to be exact.”

Loki nodded and tugged Sirius closer so he could feel more of his warmth, see more of his adoration. He had only been cast in this void for a few weeks, at best, and he was entirely too sick of it.

“Misery loves company, or so I've heard,” Loki said, lowering his voice so Sirius would have to lean closer and let him whisper into his ear.

Words to make him worship more than his mischief. Loki did have a silver tongue and many other wicked ways, after all, and they had all the time in the world to explore them.

 


End file.
